Pumpkin
by Hazelnut
Summary: For a long time, a crumbling statue was all she could see on Halloween night. But can the words of a boy finally drill into that locked chamber of her heart? For the darkness must be swept away before it completely corrodes her mind...[RyoSaku]
1. Bitter Darkness

A long time ago... longer than the first time she had stolen a bite of cookie dough, longer than her first memory of snuggling into warm silvery sand, a girl had a cat. The cat was ginger, with a beautiful sleek coat and round cuddly body, rather resembling a ripe pumpkin. So she, being the uncreative child that she was, had given him the name "Pumpkin" in her sweet childish voice, emphasizing each syllable with a happy high-pitched squeak.

"_Pump-kin_!"

The girl loved Pumpkin more than anything else in the world. Dolls were forgotten as they lay limply in the toy basket, crayons were strewn carelessly around her bedroom, and picture books gathered dust in the shadows under her bed. She saw only him. The large purring creature which crawled into her tiny lap whenever there was a chance, crushing the undeveloped bones under its overpowering mass. Yet she didn't mind the slightest, for he was like family, and family members tolerate each other, don't they?

His soft silky fur was like cream under her fingers. She could sit there for hours, simply repeating the upward and downward motion of her hand as it lovingly stroked the hairy animal. His meowing was music to her ears; his innocent begging eyes filled a part of her that was hollow with loneliness. For the first time in her life, she felt needed and accepted by something, even if it was just by a cat.

He would always be there. When she had locked herself in her room after a violent quarrel with her mother, with her tear-streaked face buried into the soft cotton pillow, he would always appear. When she had been awarded the top-of-the-class prize, with her mouth curved into a proud beam, he would watch her glowing face from a corner of the room. She could always expect him to be there. Whether it was shooting in from an open bedroom window or wriggling out from a pile of clothes under her bed. He would always be there, offering the comfort of his warm amber fur and the treat of his rough licking tongue.

Yet one day, he vanished from her life, completely.

It had been the last day of October, and the weather had been unusually humid for an autumn's day. She could remember that morning vividly, partly because she had struggled over the choice of her clothes due to some incredibly pathetic reasons. A jumper? No, too warm...A T-shirt? But what if it gets cold later? ...Time had ticked by without notice, and it was not until her grandmother's impatient shouts echoed from downstairs that her thoughts had been interrupted. In her hurry, she had grabbed the jumper and raced down to the kitchen to gulp down three mouthfuls of cereal. Then, before she could check off her morning routine list, she had wrenched the door open and sprinted through. She did not want to be late for school. She had_ never _beenlate for school...

The ginger cat stretched out on the front porch and watched his master's fading back with alert, gleaming eyes. He yawned and bathed under the shimmering spill of sunshine. A silver name tag shone from where it nestled within the rough clumps of ginger hair. It was a specially manufactured tag, with a long fish bone framing the wobbly capitals spelling the pet's name. Designing and ordering it had cost the girl a fortune, yet she was willing to share anything with Pumpkin and the limited contents of her piggybank were no exception. The cat seemed to also understand the girl's feelings, as he began licking the tip of the metal poking out from under his chin, like a loving mother would over her kittens.

However, something tasty caught his eye.

The cat's hunting instincts tingled and his ears perked up in excitement. He slowly straightened up and, with the gentle morning breeze ruffling its majestic golden fur, gracefully walked out through the open gates like an emperor parading down a street. His shrewd eyes were locked on a twitching object on the other side of the road, an object with fluttering black feathers and a twitching claw. A bird was wounded; its bright yellow eyes were blinded with fear, terror, and panic. Although its chance of survival was slim, it beat its tiny twisted wings in a final fight against destiny, refusing to give up.

The cat paused on the footpath and watched for a while. He narrowed his eyes, yet the hard, hungry light has diminished. The slits softened, slowly but surely, and the cat let down its guard. He gazed back at the house from which he had stepped out, and was about to stroll back again when something else caught his attention. A group of laughing teenage boys was walking toward the bird, totally oblivious to its presence. Their shuffling feet drew nearer and nearer to the pile of trembling feathers.

Then, without warning, the single thread of life snapped.

A blonde boy squashed it as easily, as mercilessly, as if it was a bug. The poor creature was instantly crushed to a pile of flesh under his sneakers. Its leg stopped twitching. And none of the boys cast a second glance back. Not even the blonde one.

The cat stood dead still, silently witnessing the scene without moving a single muscle. An angry hiss escaped his lips as he bared his teeth. He hunched his back in a stance of attack and leapt over the pedestrian path, towards the group of snickering murderers. Yet as clever and alert as he was, the cat overlooked the danger of bustling traffic, including the roaring motorbike which would soon end not only his heroic act, but also his life.

* * *

The sky was stained with the identical watery grey after five years, twenty seasons, sixty months. The exact shade of grimness which hovered overhead like thick, uneven clumps of dust.

Ryuzaki Sakuno lowered her line of vision from the depressing colour with a sigh. Her silky brown hair was braided into a single plait down her back, a little different from two years ago when she was a young immature first-year student. But the shimmering hairclip still remained, with the delicate design of a cherry blossom holding her thick fringe in place. The young girl's uniform fluttered in the breeze which caused a shower of warm autumn colours and a whirlwind of dry crackling leaves.

_It doesn't feel like five years had gone by..._ Sakuno closed her eyes and breathed in the faint smell of decaying leaves. _This time five years ago, I was..._

"Hey who have we got here?? Why, isn't this Ryuzaki-chan??" A loud but familiar voice sounded behind her, saving her, just in time, from a dreadfully vivid memory flashback. Her eyes snapped open just as she heard an ear-splitting screech of tires beside her slender body. The horrible noise made her cringe instantly.

"A-Ah...Momo-senpai! Good morning!" Sakuno looked around to greet a young grinning face. His jet black hair was spiked with perfumed wax, for she could smell the distinctive scent of it as he swung his legs down from the old bike to walk beside herself. She smiled and fell into step beside the former upperclassman, although always felt so tiny next to his strong muscular built... which was still a whole head and a half taller than her own.

Purely out of habit, her eyes flickered to the empty passenger seat of Momoshiro Takeshi's vehicle. Yet as quick as it was, the action did not escape the sharp eyes of Momoshiro. His face immediately broke into a sly smile and he glanced sideways at the girl with suspicion.

"Just _who_ are you looking for there, Ryuzaki?"

A blush warmed her cheeks as she shook her head in violent denial. "Err-nothing! No one!"

Amusement was written all over his face as he sighed at the sight of her reaction.

"...Echizen said he is on class duty this morning, so he went to school early." Even though Momoshiro and Echizen Ryoma now goes to different schools - one in high school and one in middle school - their friendship remained intact and the older boy would often drop Ryoma off as was their routine in middle school. Sakuno lowered her head in embarrassment for making her inquiry so obvious. For even now she has an overpowering admiration for the young tennis prodigy, but whether the feeling was the so-called 'love'...she still doesn't know. Maybe she doesn't _want_ to know...after all, like Momo-senpai said, they are still "young".

"Hmm...You look particularly troubled today, Ryuzaki! What's wrong? Did Echizen say something to you again!? Humph, that brat never learns, does he?? Don't worry! I'll go and give him a good painful punch for you-"

"No, no, it's not like that..." She smiled and tried to hide her sadness. But it was harder than she thought. If she doesn't change the subject her tear glands are surely going to start functioning... "Anyway, how's everyone at high school, Momo-senpai?"

Despite her desperate effort to shift the focus of the conversation, Momoshiro could detect the quivering emotions under the girl's forced smile. He frowned but decided to go with the flow.

"Oh, they are all fine...as healthy as an ox! Echizen has probably told you that everyone is in the tennis club except Taka-san? But we had all expected his withdrawal anyway...Oh! And did he also tell you that there's going to be a Halloween party at Kawamura Sushi tonight?"

"...Err...No."

Looking at her blank face, Momoshiro was clearly surprised that she hasn't been told the news, yet the surprise soon turned into frustration at the young tennis prodigy.

_I thought he would've told her by now... Oishi-senpai did tell him to notify the 'old party'! _Momoshiro balled his hand into a fist. But then his face softened and he shook his head in sad realization.

_But now that I think about it...that brat really doesn't interact with anyone, does he? I wonder if he even knows who was in the 'old party'...that explains this confusion. But...somehow my incredibly accurate instinct has always sensed a peculiar bond between him and... _Momoshiro stole a glance at the young girl walking briskly beside him, clearly trying to catch up with his large strides.

_He shouldn't have forgotten. Or is it really as simple as 'forgot to ask her'...?_

"Well, even if you haven't heard anything, would you like to come? It's at six o'clock and... _everyone_ has to dress up." He chuckled and wasn't surprised at Sakuno's immediate refusal.

"D-Dressed up!? Umm...I think I'll pass this time...thank you very much for inviting me though..." Confusion was evident from her slightly alarmed voice. Yet her refusal was said with firmness, almost like she was prepared to refuse even before he offered the invitation. The older boy pulled an exaggeratingly disappointed face.

"Aww... don't be so harsh, _Ryuzaki-chan_! We're only dressing up for trick-or-treating-"

"Trick-or treating!?!? A-Aren't we a bit old for that, Momo-senpai??...Oh, I didn't mean it offensively-" She covered her mouth when she realized her rudeness, but it was too late.

"I am _so _offended, Ryuzaki! ...Gosh, I'm afraid the _only_ way I'll forgive you is for you to come to this party tonight." The tone, the expression, the gestures all illustrated the fact that this was all part of the Super Great Momoshiro Special Plan. Sakuno could not refuse again...especially since she had just, technically speaking, 'insulted' her upperclassman. As dense as she was, she knew very well this can almost be considered to be a sin in Japan. Yet she did not want to go...especially since today was...

"There will be sushi?" Momoshiro tested when he noted her hesitant expression.

"Oh...it's not that..." She mumbled weakly, desperately scanning her brain for any usable excuses for this particular situation.

"Ponta? Candy floss? Lollipops??"

"Umm...I'm not particularly concerned about_ food_, Momo-senpai..." As troubled as she felt, Sakuno could not help smiling at the young man's interjections of food names...this person's way of thinking obviously hasn't changed at all.

"No? Well, how about this?..._Echizen_ will be there."

Pain seared across her lungs and Sakuno erupted into a sudden coughing fit. Momoshiro laughed and slapped her on the back. "A-ha! It's settled then! We shall be prepared to welcome you as our special female guest tonight!" He did a cheery wave and swung his legs back over the bike, completely ignoring the tired sigh of the old tires and the squeak of the seat as he put his full weight onto the poor vehicle.

"Say hi to Echizen for me! Oh, and please don't hesitate to hit him for not inviting you! ...Just say it's an expression of my bitter disappointment in him!" The older boy winked and vanished around the corner like a hurricane. He truly is the human form of a hurricane...fast and powerful, with an unbelievable appetite for anything and everything. Sakuno sighed again. She knew to reason with Momoshiro-senpai when he has his mind firmly set on something is completely useless. No choice now. She must either go or be prepared to insult the friendly upperclassman...which equals no choice.

The girl trudged through the school gates in a state of distress.

* * *

Distressed, Echizen Ryoma rested his forehead on the cool wood of his desk.

_Arrgh...why do I have to go to a stupid Halloween party tonight!?!? It's not like I haven't had enough trick-or-treating experiences in America already..._ He groaned into the desk and closed his gloomy amber eyes. He had just finished the window-cleaning duty, as required of him before school, and was _secretly_ rubbing his aching arm (since a tennis prodigy getting cramps from _cleaning_ would, undoubtedly, be the most disastrous rumour to be spread around the school) when the metal door of the classroom was pushed open. Assuming it is probably some nerd who had arrived early to school for an extra hour of studying, he did not bother lifting up his head. Although he opened his heavy eyelids just a fraction so that he could see the 'safety distance' of gleaming tiles by his seat.

The footsteps grew louder, but it was not until a pair of polished leather shoes appeared in his narrow field of view that he took any notice of it. The female feet stopped abruptly and he rolled his eyes. _Oh dear God...don't torture me with another love confession this early in the morning..._

"...Ryoma-kun?"

The golden eyes widened and a smirk slowly formed on his lips as the voice rushed through his eardrums, up his brain, and clicked in with an image of a girl with long auburn braids and deep warm eyes._ Oh dear God... I take back what I said._

The young boy slowly lifted his head of emerald-green hair from his desk and looked up at his visitor with a lazy flick of his feline eyes. "What?"

"Uh...I-I saw Momo-senpai this morning..." Sakuno coloured slightly under Ryoma's piercing gaze. "He wants me to say 'hi' to you...um, you know, for him."

Ryoma lifted an eyebrow as an awkward silence fell upon them. "...Thanks, messenger."

She shuffled her feet nervously. Ryoma sensed that she was waiting for something...from him? He frowned and questioned coldly.

"What else do you want?"

The pale girl flinched and Ryoma thought he saw her shoulders sag, like a child who was denied an extra candy... She shook her head and smiled faintly.

"Oh, um, nothing...s-sorry for interrupting your nap..." She muttered and turned around to hastily walk out of the classroom.

He stared after her and felt a wave of confusion eating away his mind. He almost gave in to an urge to chase after her and ask her to explain the problem, or the thing that she was expecting from him. But he yawned and chose to give in to the exhaustion tugging at the edges of his brain instead.

* * *

The wooden sign with printed block letters "CLOSED" swung gently from side to side in the night breeze and bumped against the sliding door of Kawamura Sushi. A magnificent sunset was fading from the sky, crimson melting into violet, gold dimming into grey, and the stars opened their eyelids to peer down at the planet on a night meant for blood-curdling screams and dark sweeping costumes. It's Halloween night.

A stream of laughter flowed out from a crack in the sliding doors, along with some happy munching and chewing sounds occasionally interrupted by the dull thud of knife against wood. No one noticed a flicker in the street lamp outside the restaurant; it lit up a corner of the street in a sudden burst of light, and then dimmed again to normal. It wasn't an unusual sight, but a pair of feet had stopped directly under it. Their owner lifted two huge and startled eyes to the faulty bulb and then relaxed again when she discovered it was only the lamp. Not lightning, not a torch flash, just a faulty street light. Yet she didn't continue down the path. Instead, the dark eyes traveled down her black velvet dress and overcoat, and then finally back up to the gigantic broom stick in her hand. The girl winced in embarrassment.

She told her grandma she couldn't be a witch. She just...didn't have the_ feel _of being an evil old hag, complete with wrinkles, a big wart on her nose and a sleazy black cat. But, having just found out about the party that morning, this was all she could manage to put together... a random assortment from her childhood dress-up box, her loving grandma's antique wardrobe, and the broom cupboard of her neighbor.

Not bad for a three-hour scramble and panic attack.

But at this precise moment, merely two meters from the entrance to the party venue, her mind wavered in doubt and fear. _What if I'm the only person dressed up? Maybe they've changed their mind and forgot to tell me? ...Just like how they forgot to invite me. Oh dear, I knew I should've refused and stayed at home...and anyway, I'm not supposed to celebrate anything today...in fact, I shouldn't even be **happy** at all._

The girl sighed and was even considering turning back when the door slid open without warning. A flood of golden light poured over her slender body and illuminated her pale face. Her mouth opened in surprise but, before she could make a sound, a hand had gripped her forearm and roughly dragged her into the warm room.

"Stop moping around by the door, it's annoying."

The hand let go and she heard the door bang shut again behind her. What followed afterwards was an overwhelming explosion of wolf whistles, excited exclaims, and teasing questions.

"Oooh,_ Echizen_... I didn't know you were so eager for Ryuzaki to come in!"

"A-ha! Your true face is finally revealed, Echizen!...But _before_ she even came through the door...you're more desperate than I thought, Echizen!"

"Fight Ochibi! I knew you have the potential!!"

"Hehehehehe...this is really _really_ good data..."

A horde of older boys - older _dressed up _boys - grinned gleefully at their youngest male companion, completely unaffected by the icy glare on Ryoma's face as he seated back in front of the glass cabinets of the sushi bar and aggressively hoisted the thick vampire cape out of his way. The boy was obviously in a serious state of frustration, Sakuno could almost see a note saying "I'm annoyed" stuck to the back of his emerald hair.

"Aww... Sakuno you look gorgeous!!!" A shrill voice pierced the loud laughter and teasing of the boys, and a girl clad in an extravagant pink lacey dress bounced up to her. Her shoulder-length red hair was elegantly twisted back into a bun on the back of her head, and her lips were frighteningly red due to an excess apply of lipstick. She took hold of Sakuno's right hand (the broom-free one) and studied her from top to bottom, then finally let out an excited giggle and squeezed her hand.

"Oh you do look absolutely _beautiful_!" Osakada Tomoka gasped in pure joy. Her voice slightly trembled from her unusually hyperactive mood.

"Err...t-thanks, Tomo-chan...you...too..." Sakuno was about to compliment on her friend's costume in return, but somehow the plastic tiara and pink stiletto heels just didn't exactly fit in her category of "the outfit to go trick-or-treating in". Nevertheless, she smiled and tried her best not to burst Tomoka's bubble, since her own costume wasn't exactly the ideal Halloween clothing either.

"Oi Osakada! Can you please _move_?? We can't see Ryuzaki's costume because you're in the way!" A voice croaked from the group behind. Tomoka's eyebrows immediately scrunched together and she spun around to fire back:

"A person who's so stupid as to come to a party when he's sick has no right to talk! _Really_, I don't know how the hell you managed to get into the Seigaku High Tennis Club with six years tennis experience but still not knowing how to hold a racquet properly. I bet Ryoma-sama can thrash you in five minutes flat!"

"Three minutes, actually." Ryoma corrected coldly.

Horio shrank back against the wall. He's obviously no match against those two, regardless of how many years tennis experience he has.

"Nice costume, Ryuzaki-chan! That broom is _brilliant_!" Kikumaru Eiji pounded onto the girl in his fluffy cat costume. From his attitude it was extremely difficult to believe that he was now a high school student. The claws on his "paws" looked so real Sakuno was scared that it would penetrate her flesh when they gripped onto her shoulders. But her attention was diverted upon catching a quiver of Ryoma's cape. Weird, did he just flinch when Kikumaru touched her shoulders? But he didn't shift from his present position of leaning against the counter on one elbow, and a cool sideways glance on his face. She didn't think he even blinked.

No, it must have been her imagination.

"Well, since everyone's here now...shall we begin?" Oishi Syuichirou's enthusiastic voice rang out above the rest. Sakuno could see, with a small smile, the tall ex-vice-captain of the Seigaku Tennis Club waving a huge plastic bag filled with bamboo baskets which he had clearly prepared in advance for the purpose of collecting sweets. He laid them on the floor and ushered everyone to take one. Carefully fishing out what she suspected to be a mini picnic basket, she chuckled at the sight of Momoshiro trying to stuff a basket into Ryoma's arms. Due to Ryoma's cold insist on only being a "guard" for the trick-and-treating party and not actually joining the crowd, which disastrously clashed with Momoshiro's determination at forcing everyone to be "part of the group" (as Sakuno had previously experienced), a ridiculous battle had erupted between the pair. A battle which Momoshiro triumphantly won despite Ryoma's attempt to hide his arms under the thick folds of vampire costume, and resulted in the basket to be "worn" on the younger boy's head instead.

"It suits you quite well, Echizen!" Momoshiro laughed at the upside-down basket over the tussle of dark green hair, its handle wedged under his chin like the ribbons of a sunhat, and a pair of fuming golden eyes glaring from under the smooth bamboo rim.

"You'll regret this, Momo-senpai..." Ryoma say through gritted teeth, but the upperclassman only grinned and slapped the boy's shoulder.

"Come if you dare."

Sakuno smiled as she followed them out of the restaurant, and held out a helping hand when she noticed Ryoma struggling to untangle his hair from the basket...a process which looked extremely painful from his twitching brows and tightly pressed lips. The most obvious proof that it was painful was, however, that he didn't protest when he felt Sakuno's fingers gently loosening the knots from the bamboo cracks. Although the fact that his eyes wouldn't meet hers could probably be interpreted as a sign of embarrassment.

The basket was lowered and Ryoma breathed out a sigh of relief and frustration. Although still not looking at her directly in the eye, he muttered a quick "thanks" before hastily walking away to join the other males. She smiled. That was, indeed, all she was expecting.


	2. Dawning Light

"Why isn't Tezuka-senpai here, by the way?" Sakuno asked, although the answer wasn't hard to guess.

"Tezuka? Oh...he's busy training for an upcoming national tennis tournament." Oishi replied with a smile. His bishop outfit really did perfectly bring out his angelic personality. Sakuno could almost see a bright halo around his head. She smiled back easily and nodded.

"Nothing less from Tezuka-senpai... as outstanding as usual." Laughing, she gave her basket a gentle shake, which was already half-filled with a random assortment of chocolates, lollipops, and marshmallows. "...But we sure have accomplished something today, haven't we, Oishi-senpai?"

Oishi smiled gently and agreed as he looked at his own confectionary collection. "Yeah, we really have...to be honest, I wasn't expecting people to be so generous."

"Was Oishi-senpai the one who organized this party?" Sakuno's eyes widened in surprise. She had assumed that this Halloween party would be the idea of a certain upperclassman who had set their eyes on the lollies and food that's part of the deal.

"Yeah, it was my idea. You see, I read a book written by Agatha Christie, and it was about a Halloween party which sounded very interesting...although, of course, I don't think I'll have the apple-bobbing game which started the murder in the novel..." Oishi chuckled nervously. Sakuno laughed.

"Oh, Oishi-senpai likes Agatha Christie too? I_ love _her writing... especially 'The Mysterious Affairs at Styles' and 'Sad Cypress'." She said excitedly and shifted the gigantic broom from one hand to the other. As can be assumed from its size, the broom was quite heavy and she secretly cursed their neighbor for keeping such a huge impractical broom in their house. What do they use it for anyway? Sweeping a rice field?

The night had been surprisingly enjoyable so far. Nearly all of the households they visited had been kind enough to answer the door and, with the exception of some grumpy old men, had spared them some sweets from their pantry. And during their walk between separate neighborhoods, she has had the pleasure of chatting to various upperclassmen about a range of subjects...comics with Kikumaru, food with Momoshiro, sceneries (mainly for photography) with Fuji, and then novels with Oishi. Although she barely talked to Ryoma... since she knew she wouldn't have much to contribute to a conversation about famous tennis players or the brands of tennis racquets. During her talks with the other boys though, she would sometimes catch a flash of honey-coloured eyes or a Ryoma-like groan of boredom behind her.

"Ah, Ryuzaki...would your grandmother mind if we drop by at your house as well? We'd like to visit her and see if she's well." Oishi asked the girl beside him with a lively tone. His eyes shimmered with excitement, as if the idea had just occurred to him.

"N-No, not at all...I'm sure she'll be very happy to see everyone." She smiled. "Plus...I think she may have prepared some baked goodies in the kitchen before I left."

"Oooh! To the Ryuzaki Residence we go!!" Momoshiro and Kikumaru shouted in unison and each took hold of an arm of Ryoma's. The younger boy's face soon twisted into an almost... fearful expression.

"W-Wait, Kikumaru-senpai-" But he never finished his sentence as the two upperclassmen dragged him down the street in a high-speed sprint.

"Come on, Echizen! Don't you want to eat fresh chocolate chip biscuits and crusty cranberry pies?"

"And creamy cupcakes and sugary donuts?"

"Are you serious? Kikumaru-senpai!? There are cupcakes and donuts?"

"I dunno, how did _you_ know there are biscuits and pies?"

Ryoma sighed, but knew nothing could stop those two when food is involved...

All he could do now was to concentrate on keeping his arms intact...or be prepared to sew them back on afterwards when everyone else is enjoying their stupid pies and donuts.

* * *

They were chocolate croissants.

He would never forget the blinding glow on Momoshiro and Kikumaru's faces when they first saw the pile of dripping delicacies on the massive plate meant for Christmas turkeys… obviously Ryuzaki-sensei had not only expected the whole team, but also expected Momoshiro and Kikumaru's 'pitless' stomachs.

The old lady had acted as 'unelderly' as ever when she greeted them at the door. Apart from a few more wrinkles by her eyes and on her neck, she was as lively as ever. And a painful squeeze of his cheek had soon wiped any further thoughts and sympathy for her old age away from Ryoma's mind.

He chewed a corner off the steaming croissant and rubbed his cheek which was still sore from the attack of his coach. _As merciless as usual...oww...it even hurts when I'm chewing, damn that old woman... how did her granddaughter end up so different? _

Eyes slowly shifting to the girl with hair as dark and soft as the chocolate coating on his croissant, he felt unusually warm, not physically, but mentally and spiritually. Warmed by her presence. His vision locked on her laughing face as she added an extra croissant to the mountain of food on Momoshiro's plate. _That pig. _Ryoma cracked his knuckles; anger has completely diluted the importance of their age difference to him.

Lightning ripped through the sky, lighting up the room in a sizzling flash, followed soon after by a roar of thunder and the pitter-patter of rain. Strangely, the first thing Ryoma felt wasn't the panic of him not being able to go back home in this storm, but the relief for **her** not having to go back out... for she was at home already.

However, all the seniors but two seemed to be in a state of stress.

"It's raining!? Oh no...I told dad I'd have the party in the restaurant in half an hour...he'll kill me if all those seafood I ordered goes to waste!"

"What should we do!? Oh, if we hadn't stayed this long...I'm so sorry, Taka-san, we'll try to get back somehow! I'm sorry, Ryuzaki-sensei, we interrupted your peaceful evening-"

"Hmm, maybe I shouldn't have left those cactus pots on my window."

"My data book is at Kawamura Sushi..."

"Shhh----"

Sakuno looked at her grandmother for directions, and was slightly surprised to find a smile on the old woman's face. "Grandma...?"

"_Listen up_, everyone!!!" A stern voice effectively silenced all the unnecessary noises in the room, save the sounds coming out from a corner of the interlinked kitchen, where Momoshiro and Kikumaru continued to dig into their pile of goodies, probably still unaware that it was even raining outside.

"Kawamura, were those seafood all prepared for tonight's party?"

"Um...yeah."

"Could you get your father to deliver them here? I'll make good use of them... since I don't think any of you should go back in this weather condition. If you plan to, then I'd rather you drown yourself first, that way I don't have to look for your body."

"G-Grandma..." Sakuno whispered awkwardly. But the elderly coach ignored her.

"Oishi, stop apologizing and help me rearrange the furniture... I think there may be a few more people sleeping in this house than normal tonight..."

"B-But Ryuzaki-sensei! We can't possibly _sleep_ here! We've been enough trouble already-"

"Oh just shut up and listen!" Ryuzaki Sumire roared. Sakuno had to bite back a laugh at the sight of Oishi choking on another apology. "There is no way this storm would stop before morning, and I'm not so cold-blooded as to throw all of you outside to the stray dogs-" All of the people in the living room felt a cold shiver down their spine at the thought of dogs tearing their flesh apart in the rain, with blood flowing down the street and into the drains...perhaps it's best to do what the wise old woman says.

"Idon'tmindstaying." Momoshiro said between mouthfuls of flaky pastry, evidently having just grasped the general situation.

Oishi hesitated; eyebrows locked together in a deeper frown, but finally gave in to "the pressure". "Oh, I guess there's no other choice. Thank you-"

Sumire held up a hand to stop him in the middle of a 180 degrees bow. "I _have_ no choice, do I?"

* * *

Although he wouldn't regard staying in the same house as the nasty old hag a marvelous idea, Ryoma had to admit the woman's cooking was impeccable.

He spooned another large spoonful of creamy pumpkin soup into his mouth and felt the thick liquid tingling every taste bud on his tongue. As much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't wait to find out what the old woman would do with those boxes of mouth-watering fish and squid delivered to the Ryuzaki Residence in the Kawamura Sushi van, whose driver was now also sitting comfortably on the couch in the living room, chatting enjoyably with his son and Inui Sadaharu about something to do with the percentage of fat in salmon. Although his sushi-chef uniform really did match horribly with the flute of red wine in his hand.

From his position on the living room floor, Ryoma could see Kikumaru bouncing up and down on the spare futons which will serve as their beds tonight (while happily yelling "This is like camping!"), Momoshiro sorting through his colourful bag of 'prizes' on the floor (occasionally sneaking pieces of cracked chocolate into his mouth), Fuji and Oishi kindly giving a helping hand in the kitchen (but constantly getting in the coach's way), and Kaidoh doing random stretches on the floor not far from where Momoshiro had spread out his candies (therefore arguments about the lack of space would arise every few minutes).

Oh, and there were the four other third-years...leaning against the wall and laughing their stupid heads off over some juicy gossip, provided by that Osakada girl, as usual. Seems like they are the only..._sort-of_ normal ones around here... He squinted his eyes. ...Four?

She was gone.

Ryoma scanned the room again, but she was nowhere to be seen.

_Ryuzaki._

And then, as if by chance, he gazed out of the sliding glass doors leading to the backyard, through a crack in the lavender curtains. Just like how he had gazed through the crack in the sliding doors at Kawamura Sushi... And just like how he had spotted her shadow on the cement, he spotted a glimmer of pink in the darkness.

* * *

Enveloped in the dark dress, dark leggings, dark overcoat, dark umbrella, she felt as if she could literally melt into the night. If it wasn't for the sparkling flower hairclip, she had no doubt she could master invisibility. Rain pounded on the plastic of her umbrella, sounding like a shower of needles that threatened to pierce the material and into her skin. Eyes glazed over by a shadow of pain, she looked at the white statue in front of which she was squatting.

It was a statue of a cat, with its dainty sculptured paws held in mid-air, in a playful posture as if it had been petrified while clawing for a butterfly. She reached out a hand and touched its stony ears. Icy cold, like her frozen fingers.

_Has it already been five years...? Why does it still feel like yesterday? ...Why is it still so vivid in my mind?_

"Come back inside, idiot."

Sakuno was so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn't heard the quiet footsteps behind her, and was seized by surprised when a frustrated voice suddenly sounded... so close by. She looked up and around to see a boy gazing down at her with piercing golden eyes, with a rare flicker of anger glowing within the dark pupils. He hasn't been out here for long, this she could tell from his reasonably dry vampire costume. Yet without any kind of protection, his hair had already begun to drip and his face was glistening with moisture. She sighed and stood up. Holding out her umbrella so it covered the two of them, she replied with a small smile.

"You're more of an idiot to come out without an umbrella."

He didn't respond but simply stared back. Their eyes locked, and Sakuno felt as if she was literally rooted to the spot. Silence spread, broken only by the rain as it struck the ground with the sharp sound of metal against rock. The yard was nearly pitch-black, save the soft rays illuminating the vegetation from tiny garden lanterns scattered around the snaking rocky paths. The eerie atmosphere was suffocating her... and Ryoma's cold eyes weren't helping with her growing sense of discomfort. She swallowed with difficulty when they finally detached from her face and slowly shifted to the object behind her, to the statue whose age was revealed through the numerous cracks in its body and the moss that was crawling up its legs.

"...Why are you out here?" He broke the silence with a cool curiosity, and the corners of her mouth lifted into a sad smile.

"...Mourning." Turning her head towards the sculpture, her voice trembled slightly. "...for an extremely important cat."

"...Oh,...sorry." Ryoma said in a low voice, to which Sakuno was slightly surprised about. Gently, she shook her head and continued.

"It's okay... I kind of needed someone to talk to anyway...Will you listen?" She requested softly, although it bore a slight urgent sense of pleading.

Ryoma hesitated, but lowered his head in assent. "...as long as you don't cry."

"...Sorry, can't quite promise you that." She smiled faintly as he sighed and shrugged, then allowed her eyes to fall on the white sculpture. On the soil before it lay a small bundle of white chrysanthemum which she had placed that morning, its plastic wrapping was dotted with drips of sparkling rain, like tiny shards of diamond. Torrents of rain gushed over the stone and streamed down the cat's smooth cheeks; they looked... frighteningly like tears. Her voice was calm as she began the tale.

"No one really knew where he came from, or how he ended up here...apparently he just appeared in our garden one day. We stuck up posters, advertised in the paper, asked around the neighborhood... yet his owner never showed up. So, at last, we decided to keep him...he was such an adorable little creature that we couldn't possibly have left him on the streets and let him rummage through rotten rubbish all his life." Her eyes glowed with the warmth of reminiscence. She didn't keep the cat just because it was "adorable"; personally Ryoma believed that she would have even kept a vicious hairy beast had it appeared dying and homeless.

"...He was truly better than a pet. He was family; even saying he was _a part of me _wouldn't be exaggerating. He would always be there. Most of the time I felt the one really being looked after wasn't him, but me. Although I have to admit the baby mice and birds he brought back weren't quite as appreciated as he would have liked." She chuckled lightly, her thin brows curving into two beautiful arches above her twinkling eyes. Yet the light went as quick as it came.

"-But then...this day five years ago... I went to school, and never saw him alive again." Black velvet wrinkled in her fist as it tightened on the dress material. Ryoma saw the knuckles turn as white as bone. "All I saw afterwards was a pile of cold flesh and fur by the road outside our house."

A single tear, as pure and clear as a pearl, left a shimmering trail as it slid down her cheek and dangled off her chin. She bit her lip to repress the overpowering wave of grief as it flowed out from the old wound which she thought had healed long ago. Voice trembling, she ripped her eyes from the sculpture and lowered them to the grass as the story continued.

"I guess he had wanted to cross the road... and had been killed by the traffic. He had been killed because... because I had left the gate open that morning, because I had been late for school and hadn't bothered to check the lock..." Tears poured out from under her closed eyelids, but she desperately tried to hide it by wiping her face with her sleeve, causing the phrase which slit through the heavy silence between them to be muffled in the thick material of her coat.

"He had died because of me."

Although attempting to calm her emotions with several deep breaths, she failed as the tears flowed out uncontrollably with the sobbing, like a vigorous mountain spring. Ryoma watched silently, offering no tender words, no comforting gestures, not even a smile of sympathy. His expression remained cool as he patiently allowed the girl to pour her heart out in front of him. Having at least a reasonable amount of knowledge about the harshness of his own personality, he'd rather not take the risk of speaking when Sakuno was at her weakest. But is what he is doing really right? Is this what he really should...or _wants_ to do? His hands balled into fists. _Am I... afraid of the answer?_

"Idiot." The word escaped from his mouth before he realized had said it out loud. He watched in alarm and regret as he saw her head shoot up from her hand and her watery eyes widen in surprise.

"He didn't die because of_ you_," Having already begun, he might as well finish. "...even if you did leave the gate open, a cat has the ability to jump over the fence when it really wants to leave. Having had a cat for so long, you should know how much freedom means to them."

She was silent for a while. The night has darkened, yet the rain has ceased, just a little, and were now only gentle sprays of liquid spreading the perfumed scent from the fragrant blossoms into every corner of the garden. Mud slithered around the heels of their shoes, yet neither took any notice of it. Finally, her voice sounded again, but in a painful, almost inaudible whisper.

"What if he was trying to follow me?"

"...he wasn't trying to follow you." His voice was calm, steady, like an undisturbed lake hidden in the depth of an enchanted forest. She looked up at him in wonder, in surprise.

"...How can you be so sure?"

"...Because I was there." The reply was in an emotionless voice, without a trace of uncertainty or hesitation. Sakuno's eyes widened to the extent that her optical muscles were straining to meet the requirements. The hand which held the umbrella shook violently, dripping icy liquid down her back.

"W-What...!? That's impossible..." She choked out in shock and continued to stare at the boy's face, searching frantically for any sign of humour or falseness. Yet, unfortunately, she found none.

"I came back to Japan with my old man a number of years ago...even though I can barely remember anything. But... a weird cat I saw one morning is an exception." He paused and ruffled his hair, smirking lightly at the frozen expression on Sakuno's face.

"The cat rushed out suddenly from a house while I was still a distance away, but I could see what roused his interest easily enough - there was a wounded bird on the other side of the road." He heard a sharp inhalation in front of him, which he ignored and continued. "...but why he gave up after looking at it for so long confused me. I saw him turning around toward the gate he came out from, but just as he was about to walk off, it turned around again for no reason and seemed to have seen something alarming across the road...so I looked in the direction he was staring at, and saw the bird being trampled on by some blonde guy. And - before I could sprint across the road myself and beat that group of boys into a pulp - the cat intercepted me."

"Y-You're lying... tell me these are all made-up..." Ryoma couldn't see the girl's expression, but perhaps it was better that way...he knew he would not be able to continue if he saw the devastated expression hidden under her long drooping fringe. To continue would, however, be his only way to ease her sorrow and end his guilt which had been unmistakably linked over these years.

"...I couldn't save him, for that I regret and would understand if you want to blame me in any way. But it'll be unreasonable for you to blame yourself for his death...there should only be one guilty party." He reached inside his pocket and drew out an object, which he held out on his palm in front of him. "... and Pumpkin would agree, I presume."

The umbrella fell onto the ground with a soft clatter.

Sakuno gazed at the silver object shimmering on his outstretched hand, and felt more tears well up inside the hollows of her eyes, blurring her vision as she reached out to take it with trembling fingers. The letters spelling "Pumpkin" were still clearly etched on the metal plate, this she noted with a weak smile, yet she bit her lip to hold back the tears which were threatening to fall any instant. She didn't want to appear weak and helpless in front of others... and especially not Echizen Ryoma, who, as she had just discovered, had hidden the truth from her all these years, who would not only _not_ say comforting things to help heal her scar, but would stab new wounds in her heart with his infamous coldness and cruelness.

...Who knows? Maybe the reason why he has been reasonably civilized so far is because he was waiting to give her one final and fatal blow, to shatter her fragile mind once and for all. But _no_... she would not be fooled by him. She wasn't clever but wasn't _stupid_ either. No risks would be taken. Crying... no, even a _whimper _should be forbidden under those merciless amber eyes.

"You_ stole _this...why?" Her voice quivered with anger, confusion, and suspicion as she gripped the name tag tightly in her palm. The metal was cool, comforting, yet it didn't calm her rage. It almost felt like she had been betrayed...by someone who she has come to trust, to admire, to love.

He sighed. Although he had predicted her to be angry - which was partly why he hesitated to reveal the truth to her - he didn't expect her to change mood so quickly. The fact that she was trying to repress her emotions was obvious, yet she wasn't very good at that... the sunken frown, the blazing eyes, and the trembling lips told it all.

Reaching out, he pulled her towards him and held her close, shielding her from the spitting rain with his sweeping black cloak as he wrapped it around her head and shoulders. Before she even realized what was happening, she was pressed against his warm chest with thick folds of material blocking out the dampness outside, as well as the freezing air she was in only a split second ago. Flushing furiously, she struggled, well, attempted several times to push herself away from the intimate position, but finally accepted her defeat when she felt the rough materials wrap tighter around her body, indicating the tightening of his arms.

He has been fighting against the urge to do so for the entire evening, to grab her and lock his arms around her small body, to breathe in the floral scent of her hair, and to feel the silky smooth skin against his shirt. It was a relief to finally have the chance to give in... And there is no way he was going to let go so soon.

"...I had hoped that if you didn't know the name of the cat, you wouldn't be so sure." He said gently, with a soft sense of understanding. "I had hoped that whoever his owner was...she wouldn't be heart-broken over a cat whose identity hasn't been verified, but would keep hoping for a day that her 'real' cat will return."

"That's so dumb." She muttered into his shirt, her voice sounded muffled behind the layer of black vampire cloak.

"I know." Ryoma smirked lightly.

"And you're a foolish hypocrite... even though you told me not to blame it all on myself, yet you're taking full responsibility."

"I know." _And for purposefully not inviting her to the party in fear of her seeing my ridiculous costume...yet pulling her into the restaurant in hope that she would be by my side quicker._

"...Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"You don't have to blame yourself for what happened to Pumpkin... although you shouldn't have taken the name tag."

"I'm not so nice as to blame myself for the death of your cat."

"What!? But you just admitted-"

"Really? Wow, sorry, didn't realize I have short-term memory. But I'm not sorry I took the name tag."

"...Why not?"

"Because that's the reason I had the chance to talk to you for so long. I mean, I couldn't exactly comment on comics, food, sceneries, or novels."

"...You were eavesdropping on my conversations?"

"It's not eavesdropping when both of you know I'm behind you."

She clutched onto his shirt. With her cheek lying just beneath his collarbone, she could distinctly feel the warmth of his muscles seeping through the thin cotton material. Rain was still falling soundless upon them, she could see the thin lines of water falling soundlessly from above yet she could not feel them. Her body was completely enclosed in a cozy vacuum of warmth. But the water which dripped from the back of Ryoma's neck did not escape her notice.

"You're getting wet."

"...So?"

"You'll get a cold... let me go get the umbrella."

"No."

"Let go of me." She protested, but his arms only tightened around her fragile body.

"You're not the one getting wet, so stop moaning."

"You're being unreasonable." She said quietly, but smiled faintly as she heard him smirk. Although the next move he did was totally unexpected and sent an electrifying jolt of shock down her spine.

He kissed her neck. A light brush of lips, but undoubtedly a kiss. As his face lifted, she blushed in disbelief. Disbelief at the overwhelming sense of happiness which tumbled over her grief. _I **am** stupid after all..._sighing to herself, she secretly grinned. Looks like Halloween was never a day meant for mourning... something thrilling, something dangerous, is what this day is meant for. She felt a light pressure on her scalp as Ryoma lay his cheek on the top of her head.

"You know, if I was a vampire you'd probably be dead now."

"...Why _probably_?"

"...Because vampires don't like pale skinny little girls."

She flinched in her arms but retorted in annoyed sarcasm. "Well _sorry _for being such a pale skinny little-"

"_But_," Ryoma raised his voice in order to be heard over hers. "-I have not the slightest interest in the tastes of blood, so-"

He closed his eyes and, faintly, an image of a cat's blazing golden eyes rose from a box of scattered memories. _It had all been decided on that day... hadn't it, Pumpkin? _The boy smiled as the rain gently patted his hair, urging the words to leave his lips.

"I don't mind whether you're pale or skinny... I want you by my side."

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed my first attempt at a Halloween fic! I was going to make this a one-shot, but it seemed far too long to be one chapter, so I decided to split it in two... hopefully that didn't ruin it for you. Nevertheless, I've wanted to write a fic for a special occasion for ages, so I hope you liked my version of a RyoSaku Halloween.

Happy Halloween!


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